Janitor is up, but it’s sloppy… very sloppy… I’ll be fixing that soon… Have a good one, ~Ickiss


Jeõs, a land of wind and rock, were jagged mountain peaks resemble towering spires that seem to pierce the fabric of the sky. The air here, above the clouds, is thin and sharp, like a razor blade coated in frost. The sun is bright and harsh, countless spears of white light that glimmer upon the frosty faces of these hundred peaks. The moon looms in the sky as a disk of soft and gentle marble, a silver light that illuminates the late hours. The stars, however, still hang far away, always out of reach, the smallest of gemstones decorating the veil of darkness called the night. Even further dwell the gods, high above this mortal realm, which, despite its’ magnificent heights, dwells ever closer to the Planes of Suffering, of Demons, Devils, and Beasts. Sin and corruption run rampant through out the peaks, carried on the wind like some foul disease that taints the rain and water, plaguing the lustrous cities that used to shine like crowns on the mountaintops. Darkness creeps forward, forever closer, as a man find he no longer trusts his own shadow, and that the face of a stranger has replaced his own reflection. Homes are no longer safe, as blood fills the streets, forming crimson swirls that mix with the rain and ice, scarlet spirals draining into the sewers below.

This is Jeõs.

The Land of Black Spires.

The Price of Sin: The Condemned